Before Time Run's Out
by DancingwiththeHorses
Summary: When Roy get's in trouble, can Ed and the rest of the team find him?
1. In the streets

This is my first story! Please be nice!

Disclaimer: I do NOT own Fullmetal Alchemist! I Just love it!

Rated M for caution!

Thanks for reading, please R&R for more! :)

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Chapter one-

In the streets

It was around six thirty when the suave, dark-haired, Amestrian heartbreaker exited his headquarters.

he locked the doors to his offices as he left Central Command. Roy Mustang, stomping down the steps of Central, hands in pockets and gaze lazing over the city in front of him, the picture of storming elegance, he continued stomping through the gates, tripping up embarrassingly on a cobblestone, he caught himself with his hands. Everything would've been fine, if not for the damn puddle that he landed in. "Ah hell. Can this day get any worse?"

he growled to himself.

He peeled off his alchemy gloves. Useless as they were he simply tucked the damn things into his army coat. He continued storming down the sidewalk, now in a worse mood as ever. He was thinking over the whole entire bad day, beginning to end. Beginning with accidentally stepping in on Riza and Jean making out in a utility closet, followed by a highly pissed of Fullmetal Alchemist, ranting over some civilian ass from his most recent job. And of course, Mustang was wholly unable to refrain from making a short joke somewhere in the rant, and of course, Fullmetal being who he was, ripped Roy Mustang a new one. Using exceedingly descriptive language. It cut Mustang down, barely managing to keep his emotions under control he had sent Fullmetal away.

He knew he ought to stop having these feelings for his young golden haired subordinate. Mustang had tried. For nearly five years to fight it. But now at the age of seventeen, Ed- or Fullmetal, was a legal adult in the eyes of the Amestrian government. Before, when Fullmetal was underage, the rages and rants aimed at Mustang served to help him keep his distance from him. Now though, the consistent verbal assaults merely broke him down. Knowing that Fullmetal would never, ever, be his. Especially since the kid most obviously hated him.

It was caught up in these thought's that the Flame Alchemist failed to notice the most average young lady in the world pass much to close than should be comfortable- or proper for strangers. He also failed to register a hand in his coat pocket. Failed to notice a certain pair of muddy gloves go missing.

He also failed to notice the deadly trap he walked into. Only realizing his mistakes when he heard a gun click behind him. Turning around slowly Mustang reached covertly for his gloves, only to realize they weren't there.

"General Mustang. It's nice to see you."

The voice came from a man wearing a nice black suit, white shirt and black waistcoat. He had auburn hair and striking brown eyes. He looked like a gentlemen, save for the vicious silver and wood .35 caliber revolver in his hand. Beside him were two other men, also wearing black suits. There was no attempt to cover their faces.

"I would loathe to use force, so let's do this like gentlemen, Flame Alchemist." Said the man holding the gun. He gestured Roy Mustang to a black car, being held open by another man in a suit. Mustang narrowed his eyes. "Gentlemen don't aim guns at other Gentlemen's heads."

But slowly Roy Mustang prowled to the car followed by the man, a smile on his face. Mustang's face was set and grim as he slid into the backseat of the car.

"I suppose I ought to introduce myself, as you are no longer a threat, seeing that your probably won't make it through this alive," the man said, sounding for the world bored. "My name is Caros Vanaugh. I'm from Drachma. More specifically I'm an Intelligence spy from Drachma. I was told to use what force I deemed necessary to obtain information, and I happen to know you have expansive webs of informants." Vanaugh paused to set his gun on safety. He looked up, cinnamon eyes sharp. "You're the man I need, and you can bet I will find any way I can invent to get the information I need."

The man smiled, charmingly, though his eyes were cold as ice.


	2. Golden Perspective

This is my first story! Please be nice!

Disclaimer: I do NOT own Fullmetal Alchemist! I Just love it!

Rated M To be safe!

Thanks for reading, please R&R for more! :)

Chapter two

Golden Perspective

It wasn't his fault. It just wasn't. Fullmetal hadn't asked to be sent on that mission. He hadn't asked for thing's to go astray! And it wasn't his fault the old woman took offense when Fullmetal had accidentally kicked the wrong door open. He didn't deserve getting battered with a purse.

And when he'd finally come home after that stupid mission, and walked into the Mustang's office, the man had sat there.

Tall even when sitting, dark, handsome, with eyes that glittered a blue so black it was like a long Autumn night when the stars still hid. He was beautiful. The smirk, the one that made Ed's heart quiver like a bird in his chest, plastered on his face the entire time Ed had reported his mission.

Then the bastard had the gall to make a short joke. And it broke Fullmetal's bird-heart a little more. Then Mustang had feigned hurt and sent him away to come back the next day for a new assignment.

Ed really didn't want to do that. He never wanted to see that smug, self serving, beautiful, bastard ever again...

Not like he had much choice now. He was a dog. For just a little longer.

But on top of the excitement of being able to quit, he had an intense fear as well. Seeing as Al was living with Winry in Resembool for awhile until he decided what university he wanted to go to, and Ed didn't want to impose on Al and Winry.

Fullmetal really didn't have a post-military plan. He had no idea what to do with himself, now that Al was back in his body. He had no ambitions for anything. He felt like he would feel displaced in a university. In fact the only thing that appealed to him was traveling, far and wide.

But that is for another time.

For now the Fullmetal Alchemist dragged himself to the military dorms. He made his way to his dorm, opening the door he looked at the sprawl of books and blanket nests, arrays drawn on pieces of paper haphazardly hanging of the walls and collecting dust on the floor.

"I'm Home."

He said sadly to the empty dorm.

Ed pushed piles of books off the small couch the served as a bed, and he rested himself on the dusty old thing. Fingering the paisley pattern, he thought of the man he was so madly crushing on, the man, making it clear he cared little for Fullmetal.

Ed started to break down, alone, in this dusty dorm, that had not seen a human in nearly a month.

This dorm, that was cold.

This dorm, that was not his home.


	3. Not Afraid

This is my first story! Please be nice!

Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist, I just love it!

Rated M to be safe! Thanks

- Chapter three

Not Afraid

Roy Mustang was currently in an old black well taken care of car. Flanked on either side by two large men in black suits, it was nigh impossible to see out the windows on his sides, because of the men, but the windows had thick black curtains drawn over them, making it impossible to see anyways. In front of Mustang was the man in the expensive suit- Caros Vanaugh, as he had introduced himself by. Vanaugh was observing Roy, if that was the right word. He was scrutinizing every inch of him. Searching, it seemed, for the easiest ways to extract information.

"Mustang I would stop eyeing that door, if I were you. should you so much as move without permission... Well. It will be highly uncomfortable." Vanaugh chuckled dryly. The dark haired man gave Vanaugh a cold, calculating look, giving away nothing.

Mustang then cracked his jaw, sitting up a bit straighter. "I believe we agreed to deal with this like gentlemen." He replied to the other across from him, chuckling just as dryly. "That deal stands only if you behave." The driver of the car hit a bump that jostled all of them. "Not like it matters- not in the end anyways." Vanaugh had a cruel smiled.

I hate feeling this powerless.

The quickly covered thought left Mustang, as quickly as it came, covered with quickly with escape strategies. The car parked. "Sorry 'bout this Mustang, really I am." And with those last word's echoing in Roy's ears, the suited guy to his left stuck a hypodermic needle into his neck, Roy barely had time to register the smirk from Vanaugh.

- When Mustang woke, he rolled his eyes around, taking in the small bust cozy pale blue room. he had been stripped of his military uniform, left only in a white shirt and sweatpants. He groaned, looking for water, anything to parch his dry mouth. He felt immediately sick. He heaved, but nothing came out. He hadn't eaten anything, so how could something come back? He rolled off the old blue sofa. Struggling to his feet he got a closer inspection of the room. It was nice, but not well taken care of. The blue paint had chipped a bit, the corners were full of dusty spider webs, and the sofa he had rolled off of was indeed old, the blue of it had faded, turning brown on the cushions from years of use, the the creases still had the full glory of the color it had once been, a deep azure. He turned, the was a small sink, slightly grimy, and a toilet, also slightly grimy. In the corner there was two extra blankets.

Pretty good quarters for a prisoner.

Sighing, Roy stumbled over to the sink. He rinsed off his face, then bent his head to swish the water around his mouth. He wiped his face on his shirt. He ran a damp hand through his hair trying to get some semblance of presentable.

I won't let them break me.

And with the determination of Hercules Entering the Underworld, he squared his shoulders and sat down. He knew they were watching, from where he didn't know. The Flame Alchemist was not new to this brand of warfare- bordering on guerrilla. He also knew Drachma was getting ready to start a war- what he couldn't figure out was why. Why would Drachma wish to start a war? Pondering this he sat on the sofa, elbows on his knees, face in his hands. Breathing slowly he went over any reason Drachma might try and start a war. And what information Roy had, that they would kidnap him for. He sat there for an unknown length of time, going over in his head all his information. He knew plenty, but surely nothing that had to do with Drachma or a war.

He also tried to plan his escape. There wasn't a single window- his kidnappers were to thorough for that, the door was made of what he assumed was steel.

And he didn't even have his own clothes. Or his gloves.

One word echoed around his mind.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Roy took the deepest breath he could manage, He rubbed his still bleary eyes. His escapade with the drugs in the needle had taken a shot to his senses. He was weak, his eyesight bleary, ears muffled, touch felt all the same. His kidnappers had played their cards well, he had to give them that. They'd won the fight before Roy had realized there was a fight.

He was startled from his revelries when he heard the steel door open. The Man- Vanaugh, accompanied by two others entered the small room. His cruel smile plastered on his face. "Oh Mustang it's wonderful to see you. How are you? Nevermind don't answer. That was rhetorical." Vanaugh made himself comfortable holding up the wall. The pose shouldn't have been threatening, but somehow he managed. The guards, or so Roy assumed, took a near perfect parade rest behind the couch he was sitting on. "I suppose you've probably been mulling over why I could possibly need you. Well the answer is, you know the military tactics of the Amestrian Army. On top of this, you fought in the Ishval war. I need to know every detail of these things." Vanaughs' voice was a cold tenor, musical and haunting, "This is where you start spilling everything you know."

"I'm not afraid of you." Was all Roy said.


End file.
